


A Sign

by junipersand



Category: Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Angst, Crimson - Freeform, egg, nothing explicit i dont feel like writing gore
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-23
Updated: 2021-01-23
Packaged: 2021-03-15 07:33:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,115
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28934841
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/junipersand/pseuds/junipersand
Summary: “Skeppy?”How one simple sign changed everything.
Comments: 6
Kudos: 84





	A Sign

“Skeppy?”

How one simple sign changed everything.

_Skeppy… that’s the one thing Bad cares about._

_Skeppy?! What the—? You’re one sick psycho, Dream._

_Skeppy? Why’s this here?_

_That’s messed up…_

_“Skeppy”? The hell?_

_Bad, don’t look at it. Skeppy’s okay._

_Bad, Skeppy’s waiting for you back home. Don’t overthink it._

_Bad._

_Bad?_

_Bad, Skeppy’s_ fine _._

_Bad, this is an empty cage._

_Bad? You there?_

_Bad, wait, are you—_

Bad saw black as several hands broke his fall.

Bad needed power.

He knew he was one of the weaker members of the Dream SMP. He didn’t have Sapnap’s strength, Antfrost’s diligence, Dream’s intelligence—heck, he didn’t even have George’s quick wits. He was the weakest link amongst the five of them.

In the Badlands, he was still in the back row. Sam was smart, and Skeppy was strong. Bad may have founded the nation, but he was still the weaker member.

Skeppy may not be in that cage that night.

But he may end up there, if Bad wasn’t strong enough to protect him.

Bad _needed_ power.

He knelt in his bed, fists closed as he muttered shaky prayers. He didn’t know who to pray to. He didn’t know if God existed. Even if they did, they won’t hear his pleas. Tears trickled down his cheeks as he repeated his wishes over and over.

He needed to stop being _weak_.

Hours after, a familiar voice whispered in his mind.

Something red answered his call.

_You have so much potential_.

Standing amongst the crimson roots, Bad glanced upwards. A scarlet tendril wrapped itself around his arm, the sharp tips curling onto his palms. He hissed as the needle-like fibres dug into his skin. It made its way into his fingers and began to grow into his palms, his wrists.

It _burned_. It was as if his flesh was being eaten away. Bad bit his tongue as more tendrils pierced through the thick leather of his boots to curl around his ankles, the tip spreading into his pores and into his leg. Weblike crimson growths appeared under his skin, visible as it stretched up to the rest of his legs.

“I doubt it,” he muttered, the wince in his voice poorly hidden. He pressed his lips shut. He shouldn’t show weakness.

The Egg did not comment on his slipup. Instead, the vines that drilled into his veins seemed warmer than before.

 _There’s no need to hide your pain_ , said the Egg. _You will be stronger than before. You are shedding your weaknesses behind_.

Abruptly, Bad felt as if both his shoulders were being ripped apart from his body. His spine burned like they were being welded together by torches. His vision flashed red, overwhelming his vision as his knees buckled, doubling over in surprise and agony. Despite the pain, he reached his arms out, his palms pressed flat on the roots to catch himself.

His voice prickled his throat, prompting him to _scream_. His limbs were held together in place like his insides turned to solid cement. Thicker vines protruded from the roots and slithered around his legs, his arms, his chest… then around his neck.

Bad’s eyes flailed open, realization and panic settling in after what seemed like an everlasting daze. What was he doing? Why did he come here? Why did he listen to the voice?

The vines suddenly tightened and convulsed, pulling him towards the ground. His body burned like his skeleton was replaced by hot coals. His mouth hung open to breathe, to get air into his lungs, but the grip around his neck constricted. His mind went blank, as his body racked with fire and knives. His blood burned like lava and every muscle stabbed like acid-dipped needles.

Trapped in a mass of vines on the floor, Bad screamed as stabbing pain erupted from the left side of his chest. The roar of his own blood and adrenaline deafened his ears as the tendrils spread into his organs; growing in his lungs and twisting around his heart. The vines were changing him, ripping into his organs and making its home in his body. His figure twitched, resisting and whimpering from sheer anguish.

Somewhere, from his own screams and the gush of his own blood, he heard the Crimson’s voice again. It was an ice-cold blanket that relieved him from some of his misery, dulling his mind and numbing his senses. Bad’s eyes darkened, crimson-grown face softening to a daze.

 _Shed your weaknesses_ , whispered the Egg.

“I will,” Bad replied monotonously.

 _Devote yourself to me_.

“I will.”

The vines loosened and they untangled themselves from his limbs. They dripped with dark red blood, leaving trails on his pale skin as they receded back to the Egg.

_You’re born anew._

“… I am.”

Suddenly without anything to keep him up, Bad collapsed face-first, limbs twitching and drowsiness overtaking his mind. From his fading vision, a bright red flower bloomed in front of him, its petals blood red and the stigma glowing gold.

 _Welcome home, child_.

Bad’s eyes fluttered shut.

He hadn’t accounted for the screams that followed.

Bad awoke to sobs as he was cradled in someone’s arms. Usually, he would be alarmed, but not for himself. He would be more concerned for the person over his condition, but he felt nothing.

No worries. No panic.

Just… _nothing_.

“Bad!” Skeppy choked, relief overwhelming his voice as he brought his best friend closer to him. “What—what were you _thinking_? Did you know how worried I was?”

 _Worry_. Bad suddenly can’t remember what it was supposed to mean. Bad straightened himself, pushing Skeppy away. He looked around. He soon realized that he was in the same place where the egg was. Except the egg was no more, reduced to smithereens and charred bits of charcoal.

By the remains of the Crimson, Sam was prodding at its corpse with a sword, Ant was shoveling more gunpowder onto the larger chunks. The Crimson was gone. It was dead.

_It lived inside him now._

He was all that remained of the Crimson.

“What happened?” His own voice sounded light, like his mind was somewhere else. There wasn’t an inch of emotion in his voice nor face.

Skeppy bit his lip, glancing at the burning roots. “It’s the _Crimson_.” He shuddered. “From what Ant told me, it’s an entity that jumps from world to world.” He shook his head, his hold on Bad’s hand tightening. “We—we don’t know what it does, but we got here before—”

Skeppy couldn’t finish his sentence.

 _Before Bad was gone forever_.

Why was Skeppy so emotional?

Why was Skeppy showing weakness?

“Skeppy.”

Skeppy turned to his friend, nodding. “Yeah?”

“You can’t be my anchor anymore.”

**Author's Note:**

> *PAIN*
> 
> i am in so much pain rn


End file.
